Where Wolves Fear To Tread
by Cookies and Ink
Summary: Mastering time travel had been easy. Navigating through the Marauder era was proving more difficult however than Hermione, Ron or Draco had considered.


**A/N:** This was written for the second Finals round for the QLFC, Season 5. I'm am Beater 1 for the Montrose Magpies. Thank you as always to my amazing team and frankly stunning betas, I wouldn't be the writer I am without you all. Prompts for any comps/challenges are listed at the bottom, so as not to give anything away.

Word Count: 2,956

* * *

 **The Journey**

Hermione wanted to scream. There was a whispering suspicion in the back of her mind that Rita Skeeter might have said something to the other reporters as, so far, neither she nor Ron had been directly approached. Their quills were poised and cameras raised, hungry for something to make the front page.

Harry Potter's death — Cedric Diggory committing murder, then suicide — had been plastered everywhere. Harry's public memorial service was sure to be no different and would be headline news.

' _Vultures,'_ Hermione thought to herself. She had been determined not to cry during any of the unfolding charade. It had been dubbed 'the Funeral of the Century,' but in Hermione's eyes, it was all a farce.

None of them had known Harry. None of them cared to uncover the truth. They were expecting her to weep, to mourn, to react as was proper. And yet, rage was the only emotion that she'd been conscious of for days now.

There had been fear at first, once the two Hogwarts champions were declared missing during the Third Task. When Professor Moody had been found dead in the Headmaster's office, with Dumbledore unconscious nearby, the media had run rampant with convictions of Mad-Eye's madness.

The Headmaster had not yet woken up.

The latest theory Hermione had heard was that he had been poisoned, but the Healers had no real idea. Then, as it was announced that Hogwarts was closing early for the summer, the bodies of the two missing boys were found.

"C'mon." Ron took her hand and they walked away from the hundreds of mourners. His face was pale, his jaw clenched and his grip tight around her hand.

"They didn't even know him!" he continued. "Mum's furious, and Fudge is going to speak. Fudge!"

"We knew this was going to happen. They've lost Dumbledore, who may never wake up, and Harry, who's dead. The two saviours of Magical Britain," Hermione said bitterly.

"That doesn't explain all the tossers wailing. If I hear one more ' _The Boy Who Lived was always destined to die young'_ , I'm going to bloody deck someone."

In the end, neither of them went to the memorial. A private service had already been organised, the only people invited the few that mattered. Even Harry's aunt and cousin were going.

Perhaps that would be when Hermione would let herself cry.

She had pointed out to Ron that people would notice their absence from the memorial. He merely swore in response, practically turning the air blue. So they sat under an elm tree and let the silence fill with unspoken words.

Ron was the first one to recount a memory — how it was all because of Harry that they'd won the House Cup in the First Year — and even Hermione found herself laughing brokenly. She recalled out loud his sellotaped glasses, dry sense of humour and countless heroics. And yet even as she spoke, the part of her mind that was always working latched onto something.

"Ron, it doesn't make sense for Cedric to duel Harry, kill him and then kill himself. I know someone Crucio'ed Fleur and Obliviated Viktor, but it doesn't fit!"

Ron heaved a sigh. "You know, every time something like this happens, it's because of You-Know-Who. I keep expecting him to just appear and say it was him all along."

Ron almost comically peered around the tree they were sat under.

"And Dumbledore being attacked, that works in Voldemort's favour too."

Ron only flinched slightly when Hermione said the name. "I wish we could just get a Time-Turner — to save him, obviously, but also just to find out what really happened." From the way he said it, Hermione realised he'd been thinking about this for a while. "With all the magic in the world, can't we just charm a Time-Turner to take us further back?"

It hit her like a bolt of lightning. Ron kept talking as Hermione froze where she sat, her mind in overdrive. After being presented with a Time-Turner in Third Year, Hermione had — unsurprisingly — proceeded to go to the library and research as much as possible. It was something that seemed so far-fetched to her, she hadn't even considered it before. Of course, the Time-Turners that the Ministry created only went back a very specific amount of hours.

That had not always been the case.

She had read books kept in the Restricted Section which touched on how Time-Turners had come to be. It had been after the First Wizarding War; people had been determined to fix what had gone wrong. They had gone back in time to save loved ones, messed up their own timelines, and driven their past selves mad, and so the Ministry had made sure that messing with time magic was illegal unless officially sanctioned. Three hours was as much as the Ministry would allow.

Ron narrowed his eyes slightly and pulled back, a look on his face that she knew well, which shook her out of her thoughts.

"Hermione… you look like you've had an idea," he said cautiously.

"I have. I need to do some research first, but Ron, I think—" She cut off before she could finish the sentence as she caught a glimpse of blond hair coming towards them.

"I'll curse him," Hermione threatened fiercely. "If he breathes a single wrong word, I will make him regret it."

Ron got to his feet as Draco Malfoy approached.

"Weasley, Granger. I came to express my condolences."

"And you've expressed them. Leave us alone, Malfoy."

"Today of all days, you really don't want to cause trouble," Hermione said. To her astonishment, Malfoy didn't have a cocky retort like he normally did. He wasn't even laughing at them. He seemed upset, and she'd known him long enough to know that Malfoy wasn't a particularly good actor at all.

"Potter was… He didn't deserve what happened," Malfoy said stiffly. "This is for you, Granger."

He pulled a scroll of parchment out of his pocket and held it out to her, his body language rigid. Ron snatched it out of his grip and with that, Malfoy glanced between them both, turned and walked away.

"Well, that was… _weird_ ," Ron muttered. "This could be cursed or something, Hermione."

"If it was cursed, you'd have suffered the consequences by now. Pass it here."

Ron stood behind her to peer over her shoulder. It was blank at first and then writing began to appear, disappearing as soon as they read each word.

 **I grew up idolising him. The day he turned down my friendship, I hated him. Over the years, my feelings changed.**

Ron swore softly and Hermione hushed him, feeling ever so slightly vindicated that her suspicions had been true. Harry had been oblivious, of course he had, but Malfoy — she could read him like a book.

 **They will kill me if I tell you more. But I realise now that they can kill whoever they like.**

Hermione yelped as the parchment caught on fire. She dropped it on the ground, stamping it out quickly as Ron gaped, reminding her of a fish out of water.

"He's messing with us, surely. That's something Malfoy would do — kick us while we're down."

"No," Hermione said softly. "This is more blackmail on him. Imagine if we told people."

"I always had a feeling, but I thought it was crazy, you know?" Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione's shocked expression. "Half of my brothers have dated guys; I know what to look for. I'm more perceptive than you think."

Before she really had time to take that in, they both seemed to come to the same realisation.

"He basically confirmed it," Ron breathed.

"We have no proof and Malfoy won't betray his family. But Ron — I have an idea."

Hermione hadn't cried, but finally, she was feeling something other than anger. Now, there wasn't just rage over the loss of her best friend, her brother in everything but blood dying needlessly. Now, she had a purpose.

It felt fitting to willingly enter a life or death situation at the end of October. Every Halloween at Hogwarts had had some sort of dramatic, often terrifying occurrence. Hermione sat with Ron in their now customary place away from most people and decided not to have dessert.

She had a feeling that an empty stomach might be best for what they were about to do.

Ron clearly wasn't on the same wavelength, and helped himself to a second portion of trifle. "What?" he said with a shrug. "Who knows when I'll get to eat this again?"

When he'd finally finished inhaling his meal, Hermione got up, already working out what last minute things needed to be done. As she stood, Draco caught her eye and nodded ever so slightly.

She had started referring to him as Draco instead of Malfoy about three weeks ago. Since being back at Hogwarts, life had gone rather sideways. The addition of Professor Umbridge, clearly an enforcer for the Ministry as their Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, had convinced Hermione even further that there wasn't much keeping her in 1995.

All summer, she had read obsessively about time travel. By June 10th, she'd had an idea of what she needed to do, and so, Hermione put her plan into action. The first problem she tackled were her parents. With bruises on her face, she went to see McGonagall, tears fresh in her eyes. Of course, she hadn't wanted them to go to prison, despite the stories she spun of their neglect and 'hatred of magic'. Obliviate them, she had suggested, and McGonagall had acquiesced.

It had all been so easy, leaving her now living with the Weasleys during the summer, that she felt somewhat horrified at herself and at the system that had been almost effortless to con. Her parents had always tolerated her magic, but that was neither here nor there. They had never wanted a child and had left Hermione to fend for herself from a young age, so whilst Hermione felt guilty, it was better than wondering if they'd worry.

None of that mattered now. Hermione forced herself to focus on the task at hand. There were already discussions milling around the Great Hall about how Ravenclaw were so far in the lead they were almost guaranteed the House Cup, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She and Ron had become inseparable. He had become her remaining family and very quickly, after a tentative kiss they had shared, any hesitancy between them had faded away. When they had returned to the castle, Ron had accompanied her to the library, where they spent every free moment researching. Of course, people had approached them to stare and whisper behind their backs about how distraught the pair must be. It wasn't until Draco Malfoy had sat at the other end of the table they had commandeered that Hermione really took notice of what was going on around them.

He and Ron had talked, that was all Draco had said, and Ron wasn't any more forthcoming. Draco then had grilled Hermione relentlessly, telling her that the magic that they were considering would be a straight route to suicide. He told her that it wasn't worth it, that the world wasn't really in crisis, and Hermione had laughed so loudly Madam Pince came over to scold them.

"Ron?"

Hermione and Ron stopped halfway up the staircase. Ginny was standing at the bottom, her face serious.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"I'll meet you in a bit," Hermione said with a brief smile as Ron glanced at her.

As Hermione went to head up the stairs again, Ginny called her name, suddenly quiet. "Stay safe. I've always admired you for your strength… just remember to trust yourself."

Hermione blinked, taken aback, and then Ginny turned away, waving her hand for Ron to follow.

"Weird… I'll be quick," he murmured, and he jogged down the stairs and after his sister.

The last ingredient they needed were Hippogriff feathers. Draco had been set with the task of buying them as he had the most money. They were the last integral ingredient for the potion they needed.

On the fourth floor, Hermione slowed and took a moment to truly think about what she and the boys were contemplating.

Travelling back in time to change things. Would it be possible? Was it worth it?

Every time she hesitated, she heard Harry's laugh in her ears. Sudden grief washed over her, a heart-wrenching pang of loneliness that left her clutching her chest as she leaned against the wall and tried not to cry. She had to be focused, as she had been for months. If she could just focus, then it would be alright.

"Granger."

Draco looked surprisingly compassionate as he offered a hand to her. Somehow, after three weeks of spending long evenings pouring over old books and working on the potion together, years of animosity had… not quite dissipated, but he had been cooperative instead of antagonistic. Of course, she was still wary around him, and yet Ron of all people had seemed to let bygones be bygones. No matter how many times she asked him, he refused to tell her what they'd talked about. Instead, he confirmed what Draco himself had promised — that after the past summer, he was no longer loyal to the Dark Lord, or even his family.

Lucius had invited Voldemort to his home, and Draco had been told that once he passed his O.W.L.s, he would be receiving the Dark Mark. That was part of the reason that he had wanted to help them, and it was part of the reason that he wanted to come with her. Hermione was sure there was more to it; whilst it fit his character to run away, she couldn't forget the words she'd read at the memorial and how Draco must have felt about Harry.

Wards around an abandoned classroom had created the perfect place to concoct a plan. Draco held the door open for her and, once they were inside, presented her with four grey Hippogriff feathers.

"Remind me why we need this potion again?"

"It should make the journey easier."

Draco rolled his eyes slightly at her use of the word 'journey'.

"I find that answer vague and unconvincing, Granger."

Before she could respond, Ron came into the room. As Hermione alternated between stirring the potion ten times and adding a feather, she shot him a curious look.

"Ginny knows. She's been listening to us all summer and said I should do it." Ron swallowed and looked at them both in clear bewilderment. "I mean, I _was_ worried about Mum, my family, you know? Gin said she'll explain if she can and that even Dad has a bit of a suspicion. She said not to feel bad."

Draco drew in a breath, presumably to make an acerbic comment, but then just nodded.

"That's wonderful, Ron, but you know you don't have to—"

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be. We're in this together, Malfoy too. The three of us, we're going to bloody time travel and save everyone."

"He just wants to win millions of Galleons betting on the Cannons," Draco said with the hint of a smirk. "You're disgustingly loyal, Weasley."

Hermione dropped in the last Hippogriff feather and then moved around the cauldron to her best friend, hugging him hard.

"Alright." Casting a stasis spell over the potion, she explained to them both what was going to happen. In theory, it was simple enough. They had acquired — once again, via Draco, and Hermione hadn't asked many questions — three illegal Time-Turners. Runes would be drawn, and they would be thrown back into the past.

"What about the potion?"

"That's for the side effects of time travel, Ronald," Hermione said primly, ignoring his look at the words 'side effects'.

Each of them agreed to meet back in the classroom in an hour with their bags packed. Hermione already had hers in her pocket and stayed in the classroom, for a long moment wondering whether to make the journey without them. Was she better on her own? Selfishly, she couldn't bear to lose Ron too, and Draco was proving to be useful. He had more information that would be helpful; she was sure of that.

So she waited, and when the boys came back, she made sure they drank the potion first.

"Should we hold hands or something?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"Just stand in the circle," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"We could be about to die, okay? I just want to make sure."

"Weasley, by Merlin, if you try and take my hand, I'll—"

The smell of wet grass overwhelmed her, along with the feeling of rain on her skin. Hermione realised she was lying face down, and then she heard loud laughing.

"Shut up!"

"—you, being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool. Wait, Prongs… are those _bodies_?"

There was the sound of running feet and then hands were touching her. Blearily, she forced her eyes open.

"Harry?"

Her chest ached as she stared at him. Then, she noticed the lack of a scar and the confusion on his face.

"My name is James, James Potter. C'mon, Padfoot, let's get the three of them into the castle. They look hurt."

The last thing Hermione was aware of before she passed out again was seeing Draco and Ron's unconscious bodies levitated in the air by a dark-haired boy.

They had done it. It might have killed them, but they were in the past. And this time, they were going to save everyone.

* * *

 **A/N:** QLFC Prompts Used: Hermione, Hogwarts, Hippogriff, House Cup - as well as blue and crisis (my Beater prompts).

For Hogwarts:

\- Book Club: Astrid (Hermione Granger, genius, regret)  
\- A Year In Entertainment - 'Will and Grace': Best Friends  
\- Showtime: "There's nowhere I'd rather be."  
\- Television Show - 'Sherlock': John Watson (Hermione Granger, word: loyal, dialogue: "You, being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool."  
\- The 365 Prompts Challenge: Number 95  
\- The Insane House Challenge: Number 702  
\- Sticker Challenge: Locket  
\- Bath Bomb Appreciation Challenge: 16. Girl Power  
\- Character Appreciation: Muggleborn


End file.
